


A Man Without

by Nym_Blacktyde



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nym_Blacktyde/pseuds/Nym_Blacktyde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To set the scene:<br/>Avengers reunited due to clusterfuck that has both sides (those on the run and those not), investigating. First time all together since the accords. Tony and Steve have yet to have a face to face reconciliation since the fight over Bucky’s life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

To set the scene:  
Avengers reunited due to clusterfuck that has both sides (those on the run and those not), investigating. First time all together since the accords. Tony and Steve have yet to have a face to face reconciliation since the fight over Bucky’s life.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Clint and Thor each had one of Steve’s arms over their shoulders, with Steve’s right leg out of commission and a rather nasty blow to his left side gifting him with broken ribs and some serious bleeding. They all congregated in the safehouse, established by Fury, because of course he had a safe house established in bum-fuck nowhere Mauritania.

  
“Sit and rest, my friend, we will fetch you help.” Thor said in soft tones as he and Clint attempted to gently manhandle Steve into a chair. He didn't seem to agree with this plan of action, and stumbled way from them, shooing at them with his good hand.

Steve stood in the center of the room, and upon finding his balance, scanned the familiar faces, until his gaze landed on the one team member not looking at him. He seemed to be aware of his gaze regardless.

“Rogers.”

“Tony.” He stiffened at the sound of his own name, and Steve braced for the part two of the fight they didn't get to finish. Talking.

“Uh. Sorry, but only my _friends_ , get to call me Tony. You, sir, have throughly proved yourself to be the anti-friend, here, so, _Mr. Stark_ will do just fine.”

Steve could see the uncomfortable shifting of the rest of the team in his peripheral vision, and as much as he wanted to ask them to clear out, he knew it was probably just as important that they were there for this as the two of them. He bowed his head, unsure if the exhaustion he felt was from this most recent fight, or if he’s just been tired the whole damn time, and its just catching up to him. He couldn't tell anymore. He reached out, and patted the tips of his fingers against the table he had nearly crashed into in his escape from his team members' clutches, as much for something to do as to reassure himself of solid support should his leg finally give out.

“I’m sorry, Tony. You know I’m sorry.”

“What’s the phrase, beg for forgiveness, then permission? That’s been you every step of the way, Cap, why even bother apologizing when I know you’d pull the same _shit_ all over again given the chance?”

“Tony, I didn’t, I didn’t handle it the right way. No, I still wouldn’t join the accords, No, I wouldn’t have let you kill Bucky. Would I have found a way to tell you? Yes, If I could’ve seen...I didn’t want it to go down like that. But, _Tony_ , he was brainwashed, I know that doesn’t make it disappear, but it wasn’t his fault, I had to protect—“

“He killed my parents, Rogers! How could you-pretty much- _trick me_ , into helping him?!? How could you let me work with the man that killed my parents with his bare hands?!? How could you not tell me about him from the—-“

“ _Because he’s all that’s left!!!!_ ”

The room seem to stutter into silence at Steve’s shouted words. He had meant to keep his cool, but something in him finally gave, and suddenly he wasn’t Captain America anymore. He was just that stupid, scrawny kid from Brooklyn, beaten bloody, only this time he was alone, and not sure he could do this anymore.  
Steve winced, grabbing his side again, and stumbled back into the wall. Natasha started forward, but he waved her off, simply sinking down to the floor, trying to get his breath past broken ribs as everyone stared. Tony’s mouth was slightly parted, also panting from his rant, eyes red.  
Steve hung his head, and chuckled, completely defeated.

“When I went into the ice, I believed I was saving everyone. I believed, that sacrificing a lifetime, my lifetime, was going to mean something.” He heaved a hitched breath, subtly adjusting his slumped form to try and alleviate the pressure on his torso. His lips quirked upwards, his gaze directed at the cement floor between his splayed feet.

“And, and maybe it did mean something, maybe I saved people. But it wasn’t over. Hydra didn’t die with Schmidt. With me. Instead it grew under everyone’s noses, for decades, it corrupted our government from the bottom up. I gave everything to stop Hydra, but it wasn’t enough, and now I can never get that back. I’m not the same person that was meant to have that life, I’m not the kid from Brooklyn who wanted nothing more than for the war to end so he could ask Peggy Carter to marry him, anymore. When they woke me up, I adapted, I kept moving. In conflict it’s adjust or die. In those first couple years I was able to keep moving because I thought I was still doing some good.” He rolled his head up to rest against the wall, and his gaze fell on Tony again.

“Then, on the day you brought the accords to the team’s attention, Peggy died.” Steve smiled again, still staring at Tony, the rest of the team watching on the sidelines as Steve finally came clean, the darkness that Tony accused him of lacking, bleeding out for all to see.

“It was ironic really. She was always saying she was sorry, at the end of _her_ life, that I didn’t get to live mine.” Steve ran a hand over his face, chuckling again, but as his hand came away there was a sheen to his eyes that wasn’t there before. Everyone was transfixed by Steve, gazes locked and faces pale. All except for Bruce, who turned to glance at Tony, and was the only one to witness the horror and devastation flickering on his friend’s now ashen face.

“Then, to top it all off, I find out Bucky’s alive. That my best friend, whose family basically took me in when my dad took a bullet and my mom went from TB, who was always watching my back when I was too stupid to run from a fight……my friend who I thought died saving my life, has been kept as a…a brain-washed assassin for 80 years." He returned his gaze to Tony.

“I’m sorry, Tony. Really. I should have told you. But I was being selfish, because being able to save Bucky was maybe the one good thing that could come from being pulled out of that ice. But I wasn’t able to save him, not really. I destroyed our team trying to save him and it still wasn’t enough.” He clenched his eyes shut, trying to quell the ache.

“He put himself back under as soon as we got out of the country. Didn’t want to hurt anyone else.”

He tilted his head upwards, staring at the fluorescent lights, not so sure it was sweat running down the sides of his face anymore.

“I used to believe in…..people. What our country stood for. I could fight because I believed in who I was fighting for. I went into that ice believing. After everything, Bucky was the last thing….I had to hold onto. The belief that I could save him. Now…..now, I wish they’d just left me in that damn ship.”


	2. Truth Will Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a moment of inspiration, and thus, the story continues, directly where the first chapter leaves off. I'd recommend refreshing, its been a while. Please review!

In the suffocating silence that pulled at everyone's skin like trying on clothing too small, Vision's voice suddenly rang out,  
"Dr banner, you were drawn away from our battle to the Captain's aid, though none of us were in a position to see him nor the circumstances he was entrapped in. How did you know he was in peril?"

Bruce had his head phones hanging looselyfrom the fingertips of his left hand, his right clenching around the ends of the thermal blanket wrapped about his shoulders by Natasha during the van ride to the safe house.  
"The other guy.....heard something he didn't like."

Steve became still, though only Bruce appeared to notice.  
"Your alternate form's hearing acuity never ceases to amaze." Vision addressed Bruce, but he now faced the unnaturally still form of their leader, still slumped on the floor.

"What did you hear, Bruce?" Natasha's tone was firm, interrogative, as if Bruce had just informed them he had trade secrets of the enemy.  
Clint noticed, and his eyes darted to Bruce. The timid Doctor's body language was screaming distress, but Clint had written it off as post-green guy syndrome, simply taking his time winding down. Now he saw that he was going in the opposite direction, he was tight as a top.

"What's up, man?"

"Did you gain knowledge of the enemy's schemes?" Thor's gruff question was filled with cautious intrigue.  
The target of their obviously unwanted attentions hunched his back, and gave a half-way aborted shake of the head.

"No, nothing like that."

"Spill the beans, Doc, just looking at you makes me want to jump out of my skin." The resounding clap on Bruce's shoulder by Tony's hand still reverberated in their ears, when the strained call of the former's name came from across the room. 

"Bruce."

Attention was returned to Steve, who's feverish gaze was fixed on the doctor's tormented one.  
"Don't."

"Don't what?!" Apparently Natasha was having none of this dancing around, and after Bruce failed to expand further, she turned to Clint. 

"Where's the Hawk?"  
Steve visibly paled, and Bruce seemed to flinch in sympathy.  
Clint wordlessly pulled the drone from his bag, handing it to his partner. She had begun mumbling in Russian, as she quickly booted up the drone. 

"How far from Steve's location was the drone when Bruce extracted him?" She did not raise her eyes from the drone while Clint answered. 

"Maybe 50 yards, at most. The noise isolation controls are to the left, you can overlay a sample of Cap's voice over the audio to search for it"

"Natasha.."  
There was something small and defeated in Steve's voice on her name, his bloody body still like a puppet with its strings cut, his clotting wounds smeared old and new blood on the wall and carpet.  
She ignored him, putting the comm in her ear, apparently having been able to isolate his voice. For a moment there's dead silence, then the next thing anyone is aware of is Natasha's face, leeched of all color, though none could tell if from fear or rage.  
She wordlessly took the comm out, and pressed another button. A staticky voice, unmistakably Steve's, filled the room.

"Come on..*hacking cough*...finish it. You'd be doing me a favor." Echoed throughout the space, on repeat.  
The dead air between the loops of their friend's crackly voice was like a vacuum, stealing the breath from their lungs.

"That was out of line, Romanov." Steve's voice was closed off, no fight. He had given that up, apparently. Without any of them noticing.

"Out of line?" Her voice sounded garbled, as if she was fighting to maintain her American accent.  
Steve suddenly let out a tight groan, and time seemed to restart as he fought to his feet.

"Fury will be in contact soon. I'm gonna get taped up, we'll reconvene at 1800 hours."

"Steve!" His name was half-heartedly called out by Thor and Clint, though neither knew what they would have said had he stopped his stilted limp out of the room. 

Tony let his back hit the wall the moment the door closed behind their leader, sliding to the floor, and burying his face in shaking hands. Natasha had never lifted her eyes from the drone, and Clint came up and placed a hand on her forearm. He gently removed the device from her hands, his eyes dark and sad. 

Thor moved to the window, his face hidden from view. Bruce seemed to rally himself, and after placing his material comforts on the central table, murmured, "I'll....i'lll go, um, help."  
What kind of help he was speaking of, medical or emotional, they didn't know.

**Author's Note:**

> It's rough, and there's not a lot of lead up, I just needed to get the idea out of my head. Please review if you are so inclined and let me know what you think!


End file.
